Strand Band
by juggernaut715
Summary: A pair of kings in the world of One Piece. adopt it if you want.


Mikoto and Reisi shared the third glowering stare for the past hour, then huffed, and looked away from each other. Somehow, with the only explanation being the universe's rules failing, they'd ended up in a tiny boat in the middle of the ocean. A short, bittersweet conversation had discussed how Mikoto was still alive even after the latter had killed him, and no explanation could be found.

Mikoto's clothes were bloodstained as though he'd been stabbed in the chest, which he had, but there was no injury on his person at the moment. He'd taken the coat off and slung it over the side of the boat; the sun was bearing down on him and it was making him sweat. He might be the Red King, one who's aura itself is fire, but he was still human.

The Blue King, on the other hand, looked disheveled. His normally crisp appearance was broken; the glasses which he never actually needed were nowhere to be found, his hair was a mess, his coat was missing-in fact, he wore nothing on his upper torso. His sword was still attached to his hip. Bags under his eyes looked like he hadn't slept for weeks, and he looked unnaturally thin.

The explanation for this, as Mikoto had pried out, had been sorrow.

"_It's been a few months since you died, and I spent most of it drinking."_ Even in the midst of a hangover, Reisi was still polite enough to answer questions with honesty and accuracy. But he was not so polite to not scold Mikoto for doing what he'd done. The first thing that had happened when they'd both woken up was the Red King receiving a powerful right across his jaw, one that nearly sent him into the water.

"_What kind of an idiot are you, Suoh? I could have done it for you!"_ Reisi collected himself quickly with a huff, but it was clear even in his shirtless and tanning state that he was still quite disgruntled. Mikoto, on the other hand, was sprawled on his back like a wild lion in the savannah. Sometimes, the Blue King could see why others jokingly called his fellow king a lion. Big, grumpy cat was more like it.

In their short discussion, which had by this point grumbled down to growls and mutterings, Reisi asked if Mikoto knew what had happened to his sword of Damocles after it had dissolved. With the sound of space itself being torn, a thousand feet above them the familiar and yet different red sword burst into view. It's hilt was still torn apart, it was still crumbling, yes, but it was _up there and not falling down._ No chaotic red lightning flowed around it. With an inward grunt of his own, the Blue King's sword joined it, and for a moment, there was tranquility. It didn't last long, and they didn't bother to talk about it. To explain the workings of the Dresden Slate would be to question something akin to God, and that was not something they would be doing in weather so hot, in a boat, in the middle of the sea. They would have time for that later.

With a sigh, Reisi resigned himself to sleep as well. He was hungry, and sleeping would distract him from the hunger pangs that would soon keep him from doing so. It wasn't like he could get in contact with his subordinates without his cellphone, which he'd found missing upon searching for it, and he doubted he'd be within range of a cell tower anyways. With a shove, he made enough room in the bottom of the boat for two, and took residence next to his fellow king, though in the opposite direction; his feet were next to Mikoto's nose, and vice versa. Consciousness was lost, and for a while, he dreamt.

_A tiny girl with silvery-white hair holds his hand. She's giving him this sad look, or as sad as her reticent face can manage. The red gothic Lolita dress she wears shifts all of a sudden to that of a blue nightgown, and she actually smiles. He looks down at himself and finds himself wearing a Scepter 4 uniform. A sword is at his hip; the only red thing on his body. It's smoldering hot to the touch, and as he takes it out, he feels the familiar sensation of the sword appearing a thousand feet above him in the air. _

_It's purple._

Mikoto's eyes open with a start, a quiet gasp escaping from his lips. It couldn't be called a nightmare, no…but it was strange enough to jolt him from his sleep. Without any other sound besides shuffling, he flipped the other way so Reisi's toes wouldn't be in front of his face. Perhaps it'd been the smell of the Scepter 4 standard issue boots that had messed with his dreams.

Meanwhile, within Reisi's mind…

_The woman is always cold. Why is she always cold? Oh…because he is cold as well. Nevertheless, she stands before him, a happy and yet stern expression on her face, as though she'd just won an argument with him, lingering seriousness influencing her face of victory. Her typical Scepter 4 uniform, the only one of it's kind-she's the only woman in Scepter 4-has flipped to a gothic styled red dress, one that reveals even more of her stunning figure. Her smile grows a bit devious, and she strikes a provocative pose with hands behind her back, pushing her buxom bosom further towards him. He glances down, away from her, towards himself at the sensation of _burning_ throughout his body. His usual uniform is gone; in its place is a red t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. His sword at his hip, it's the only blue thing in sight now._

_His vision is not in his control; he tilts his head upwards and jerks awake at the sight of the purple sword in the sky._

The Blue King wakes in a far more restrained manner, his eyes slowly opening and frowning up at the sky above him. He shifts, but accidently nudges Mikoto with his knee in the process, prompting an irritated growl from the other King, who pushes himself up to give him a slight glare. Both being King's, both having intuition of a clan leader, they have mutual understanding before anything is spoken. In fact, words are only exchanged to confirm their suspicions.

"You had the dream too." Reisi states, holding himself up on an elbow.

"Yeah." The grumpy cat acknowledges, and then turns away, going back to sleep. The Blue King almost laughs at this; so simple is the lifestyle of the Red King. Eat, sleep, fight. No discipline, no true responsibilities he has to uphold-or rather, he _does_ have them, but he simply ignores them. Reisi feels a spark of envy in his heart for the lackadaisical demeanor in which Mikoto conducts his life, but brushes it away.

_It's because of that care-free attitude and denial of responsibility that his sword is falling apart. Well…that, and his temper. And his rage. And…well, denying my responsibilities as a King will pave the way to further sins; my sword will become dull, like his. I can't let that happen._

Briefly, Reisi's mind pictures that purple sword that'd been in the sky above in his dream, the way his Lieutenant had shifted to a new personality and new style and color of dress, and how he himself had done so as well. But, before he could make any analysis, he had fallen asleep once more.

Shanks, nicknamed 'Red-Hair' for his trademarked, you guessed it, _hair,_ blinked into the telescope he held. After losing his arm he no longer had the capability of holding it the regular way, and as a result he held the end with his toes and adjusted with his hand, having to sit up in the crows nest to do so.

"Benny!" He called out, looking away for a moment to ascertain that his first mate had heard him. The sole level-headed member of the crew was looking up at him, expectantly. Shanks pointed with his big toe out towards the ocean. "You see that?" He tossed the telescope down, and Benn searched the horizon for a few moments before grunting in acknowledgement.

"A boat." He said.

"With two people on it." Shanks amended, hopping down, clutching the hilt of his sword in what could be called an anxious reflex. "Both of them are laying down, and they might be starving, or worse, out of water."

"You want us to help them?" The overly relaxed tone Benn used earned a half-hearted glare from his captain; the first mate could be so casual in his disbelief at aiding other people.

"Yes. Let's head straight for them, pull alongside, get them aboard, get them some grub." He turned to head towards the kitchen to call for a feast, only pausing for a moment. "Starving at sea is a fate I would leave no man to, no matter how cruel, or terrible. Not knowing either of those two figures, I could assume they could either be the scum of the sea or the angels of heaven and not know until I, well, know." He gave Benn a serene smile. "We'll just have to find out, and hope for the best."

Benn, rolling his eyes at the lecture, adjusted their course with a few words to the man at the wheel. It wasn't long, thanks to a nice wind, till they'd approached their quarry.

"Ahoy!" Shanks called out from the railing of the Red Force, cupping his mouth to make the shout carry. "You alive over there?"

Reisi had woken faster than Mikoto; the latter was currently laying face down and snoring, and Reisi speculated slamming his head against the bottom of the boat to wake him-if that wouldn't have made them sink, he would have done it. He sat up, hissing slightly at the sunburn forming on his back from laying in the sun so long, and held a hand over his eyes to shelter them from the light of the sun, staring up at the large ship that had pulled alongside them. Their tiny dingy couldn't compare to this masterpiece of shipwrighting. An individual with red hair, almost as red as Mikoto's, was calling to them from the railing. The expression on his face was that of relief, and from the words he'd yelled the relief clearly came from Reisi moving, and not being dead.

"Come aboard!" He called, and another man threw a rope down to Reisi, who caught it with a deft movement of his hand. A sharp kick to Mikoto's ribs roused him from his sleep, though it took a few smacks to the back of the head to get him moving.

"What is it?" He murmured, rubbing his forehead in irritation.

"We've been saved by…" Reisi looked up at the ship once again, only now noticing the particular design on the flag; a design which featured a skull and a cross of swords. "Pirates."

When the first individual had made the clamber up the side of the ship, Shanks himself offered his one remaining hand to help him over the railing. This man before him looked like he'd spent a month inside of a bottle of alcohol, but there was an air of class that surrounded him even in his unkempt, shirtless, sweaty, and clearly underweight state. A sword was at his hip; he was a swordsman, the same as Shanks and several of the other pirates on board. Before any conversation was made the man spun around and barked a few words at the other person, telling them to hurry up. Now looking at the man's back, Shanks pondered the rest of the man's appearance. Dark blue hair wasn't too uncommon. But his eyes were a startling shade of violet, one that, when their eyes met once again, sent shivers down the Yonko's spine.

It was not a feeling Shanks was used to. Being uncomfortable. Discontented.

Afraid was too strong of a word, but it was only contiguous.

This man helped the other man aboard with as little contact as possible. Now, _this_ man…Red hair. An even more vibrant shade than Shanks' himself. A tiny red loop of what could be bronze or brass was pierced in the upper lobe of his left ear, and he wore simple clothing; black pants and a white shirt, carrying a black jacket in one hand. How he'd managed to get up to the deck only using one hand was a mystery Shanks wasn't pondering at the moment. Amber eyes and violet eyes both were fixed on him, and he felt like he'd entered tunnels which only lead to terror and raw power. It was similar to Haki, but it wasn't. There was no 'willpower' behind it.

It was simple power emanating from them both. The first time he'd seen the blue haired man he hadn't felt it because it simply hadn't been focused on him, but now he was feeling what could be comparable to the strength of his own latent willpower. It was, of course, from _two people._ That meant their individual aura, or whatever it was, was only half as strong as his own Haki-but still. It was more than disturbing, and the good-natured captain of the Red Hair Pirates was questioning his decision to aid these strangers.

The Blue haired man introduced himself first.

"Munakata Reisi." He holds out a hand, which Shanks shakes after only a moment of hesitation. Reisi turns slightly and gives Mikoto a stern stare, one that both delivers a message and prompts him to speak.

"Suoh Mikoto." Unlike Reisi, he does not offer a hand, and looks rather bored with the entire situation. The Blue King resists the urge to smack his fellow king upside the head, and smiled gently at Shanks, releasing his hand.

"My…" He hesitates a moment and then continues. "My companion and I happened to get lost at sea. If you hadn't found us, we surely would have perished." He did not bow, but gave a gentle inclination of the head, a few stray strands of hair falling in front of his eyes. "I must wonder, however, at the way the fates have twisted; that we should be rescued by pirates is an odd turn of events." Shanks, already over the odd feeling the two seemed to resonate, laughed, slapping a hand down on Reisi's shoulder in a friendly manner.

"To be rescued at all is an odd turn of events, in the Grand Line. I'm Shanks, captain of the Red Hair pirates." A resounding shout came from the pirates currently scuttling around the deck at the mention of their crew; pride in their membership. Mikoto had taken a fleeting glance at his surroundings, and had made a realization, one which drove him to grip Reisi's arm and pull him back for a moment for a quiet discussion.

"Why does this look like an old time pirate ship?" He jerked his head towards one of the pirates working on some ropes. "16th century pistols, swords…I see nothing technological." He released Reisi's arm and they shared a stare. "Modern time pirates have…guns. Big ones."

"Then, obviously, we aren't in the modern time, Suoh." This earned a frown, then a shrug from the Red King. Then another frown. Then he looked around with more vigor, then growled out a name which had Reisi groaning.

"_Anna._ She's-_"_

"Not here. Your bartender will take care of her, forget about it-worry about the here and now, Suoh-"

"What about your lieutenant? Think my bartender will take care of _her_ as well-"

"Don't mention Awashima-"

"Don't you-"

"Mah, mah." Shanks interjected, holding up his hand in a placating gesture, stepping slightly between them with a jovial grin on his face. "You've just been rescued! It's not the time to fight, or argue. Celebrate!" In less than a second a bottle of sake was in either of the Kings' hands, and they stared at them with different opinions.

Reisi gently passed it back to Shanks, turning and taking a few steps towards the side of the boat before retching and conjuring up the alcohol that still remained in his stomach from his sorrowful binge. Shanks watched this, but noticed the sake bottle that'd been put back in his hand was already gone.

Mikoto was sipping from both bottles, leaning against the wall, looking more pissed off than a feral lion. Shanks laughed, mirthlessly.

"Hah, hah…guys…" He waved a hand towards them in a sweep gesture, then dropped it. "Not much of a celebration…"

Over the course of a day and a night, the pair of Kings settled into one of the few empty rooms on the Red Force, having to share the room out of courtesy; it was not a deluxe hotel they were staying at, it was a pirate ship, and space was vital. Twice, twice, Reisi had to wake Mikoto from a nightmare. It shocked the Blue King he felt something akin to sympathy for the tormented nature of Mikoto's attempts to rest. Memories of rage, anguish…loss of control. They ruled his nights, were always present in the daytime…made him who he was.

Mikoto, on the other hand, was getting tired of hanging around Reisi. He'd never liked the Blue King before. Hell, he'd been _killed_ by the Blue King. That said, he could handle being around the other, but that didn't mean he liked it.

Before they went to bed they had another short and not-very-sweet discussion.

"What about the clans?" Mikoto had asked, looking to Reisi from his bed with his head propped up on one arm, laying on his side. "HOMRA…your damn Staff Six."

"Scepter 4." Reisi amended with severity in his voice. "I suppose…" he let his jaw hang loosely for a few moments, then snapped it shut, then spoke. "I suppose we don't have any way to get back to them. Until we find out how we got here, anyways. Your clan's lost their powers with your death, I can remember seeing it. Mine…" He frowned, looking away. "Well, I wouldn't know."

The following morning started early for both of them; a nightmare jolted both of them from their dreams, and they woke up giving each other the evil eye.

"Another one of those dreams."

"Hmm."

Whereas the previous dream had simply been strange, this one had involved…chaos. While Mikoto had dreamt about being in a prison of blue walls with nothing to eat but this terrible blue sludge, being encased in ice alive, Reisi had dreamt of the inferno. Burning alive, feeling every cell of his body immolate, and…creating a crater with his falling sword.

They did not speak about these dreams. They simply happened, and that was enough. It was not something to be talked about; these nightmares which plagued their sleep and kept them awake at night. Where Reisi had never truly had nightmares before, he did now, and for Mikoto this particular strain of a nightmare was nothing short of disturbing. They marched out of their room, clad in clothing the crew had generously given them, heading toward the mess hall for breakfast.

One of the crewmen, Boris, thoroughly enjoyed fashion. He was the tailor of the crew, as well as the one who maintained the sails. When someone needed a nice shirt to go into town with, he was the one they called. Some suspected he was perhaps a bit too much of a fashionista to be straight, but no one ever found out, or bothered to ask.

Now, neither of the King's gave a damn if their clothing was tailored to suit them. Neither would have minded simply borrowing someone's shirt and pants until they could get their own, but Boris would have none of it.

Suits. Both solid black, with black ties to match, but with different colored silk shirts for both of them; turquoise for Mikoto, a deliberate clash with his hair color, and maroon for Reisi.

They switched shirts before going to the table. Neither particularly liked either of the colors, but it was clear maroon would suit Mikoto far better, as well as turquoise would for Reisi.

Lucky Roo greeted them at the door, already eating meat from a bone of a who-knows-what, and upon entering they found something they knew almost never happened on this particular pirate ship; silence. All of the crew members were sitting at their respective seats at the numerous tables in the galley, but they all looked contemplative, like they were pondering a great decision. Shanks himself sat at his seat between Benn Beckman and Yasopp, looking disgruntled. He noticed their arrival, though, and offered them a strained smile, gesturing to sit across from him.

"Why's everyone so quiet?" Mikoto asked, bluntly. Reisi nudged him in the ribs, but he ignored it, simply focusing on Shanks, who laughed perhaps a bit too loud; it was forced.

"Ah, well…" He went back to frowning, looking down at a half eaten meal of what looked to be delicious food. "I need to talk to a fellow Emperor." The mentioning of 'another emperor' clicked in both King's minds; firstly, Emperors might be similar to their existence as King's, and the way Shanks spoke it was as though he was _one of them. _"An incident has…happened."

"An incident which shifts the mood of a rambunctious crew so drastically?" Reisi asked, muttering a quiet thank you to a person who dropped a plate full of food in front of him and Mikoto. Shanks sighed.

"Blackbeard's betrayed Whitebeard, killed his own crewmate-and Portgas D. Ace has gone after him." These words were spoken low, in a grating tone of voice that spoke for itself; this was _not_ good news. "Teach, Blackbeard, whatever you'll call him, is trying to become a Warlord of the Sea. Now, I don't know Teach very well…" He absentmindedly scratched the scars on the left side of his face, "But I know he'll twist this around. He'll probably turn Ace in, if he can defeat him. No-_when_ he defeats him." This was said with a deep scowl, but Mikoto posed a question that broke the hardened expression.

"To who?"

"To _who?"_ Shanks gave them a disbelieving look. "Sure, sure," he admonished, shaking his head, "yesterday you seemed a bit odd, but have you been living under a rock your entire life?" No response. "_The World Government. The Marines. The ones who make our lives hell."_ Reisi wanted to jut a 'you probably do the same for them' in but felt it was not right in this situation. Shanks had been an accommodating host, rescued them from the ocean-it was not his place to judge the morals or the ideals of the man who had saved his life.

Shanks continued.

"I know the boy's brother personally, and I know Ace. I also know Whitebeard, Ace's captain, is only putting out the order to exterminate Teach because Ace ran off to take him out himself. He'd probably discourage Ace, but he wouldn't stop him. It's a, heh, _family matter."_ A fleeting smile flashed on Shanks face and he muttered something under his breath, shaking his head. "Nevermind that. I've got to talk to him. Get him to call Ace off, so he doesn't end up dead, or worse, captured." A shout came from outside of the galley, and Shanks stood. "That'd signal our contact with the old man's ship." He sighed, slapping a hand on Benn's shoulder, asking for him to get a big bottle of Sake for him. "Time to go to work."

He turned to walk away from the table, but paused, looking back at them. He seemed to be arguing with himself in his mind. He frowned, smiled, looked away, turned back (frowning once more) and then grunted. "Wanna come along? Meet the 'World's Strongest Man'?" This title was spoken with blatant sarcasm dripping off of it, but Reisi put his fork down and leveled a gaze with Shanks.

"Before we do, would you explain your definition of an Emperor?" This question made Shanks tilt his head to the side, before answering in a skeptical voice.

"The Four Emperors of the sea. One of the three world powers; the other two being the Warlords and the World Government. Among us there's Edward Newgate, Kaidou, Big Mom, and myself." He deadpanned; "Are you sure you haven't been living on 'Under A Rock Island?'"

Reisi laughed.

"We were very sheltered." It was a pitable excuse, one that wasn't believed for a second, and was an obvious lie, but it was clear that neither of the Kings were going to willingly submit information about their past. "I wonder, though; why would you be taking us to visit one of your fellow Emperors? Surely, it is not going to be a friendly hello."

"Of course not. The old man is stubborn, strong as he is." Shanks gave them a smile, but this time it was utterly different from his usual jovial and happy one. It was devious, sinister. "Instead of taking along a few members of my crew I'll take along two expendables I've happened upon." Mikoto's head, which had been face down on the table, tilted up and glared at Shanks, who snorted. "Joking. I think he'd be interested in meeting someone with your type of…" he didn't seem to have a word for whatever he was trying to say, so, he waved it off, and walked away, leaving the pair of Kings to follow behind.

Accompanied by a massive bottle of sake and two men who he barely knew, Shanks stood by the railing of his ship as it signaled towards Whitebeard's own ship, Moby Dick.

"Shanks?" The man in the crow's nest of Moby Dick questioned. He double took, then practically flew down from the crow's nest to tell his captain what was happening.

"Shanks?" Whitebeard intoned, repeating the man's skepticism. "Ah, let him come." He took a hefty swig from his drink, and grunted. "Better bring some damn good sake, though." The ships pulled alongside each other, and a call went up; "We're receiving Shanks-and-and two others!" This made most people's eyes widen.

It was common knowledge that when entering negotiations with an enemy ship, pirate or not, that more than one person would come along; but Shanks was not the type to need backup. Newgate knew his fellow Emperor had lost his arm, sure, but that hadn't made him weaker in the slightest. It was purely weird that Shanks would bring anyone else aboard with him.

Each step Shanks took up the stairs the pair of Kings felt an odd pressure on them. They were sweating involuntarily. When they glanced at Shanks it was like there was an aura of pure power radiating off of him, but an invisible one. Similar to their own Blue and Red auras, but totally different. This sensation was ignored easily enough once they'd grown accustomed to it; it was forgotten by the time they reached the upper deck, where numerous people had fallen over.

"Don't panic, they've just lost consciousness." Someone said, making the kings glance over at him. A blonde man with an odd tattoo on his chest.

"First Division Commander, Marco." Shanks muttered, barely audible, to the both of them. Another man started speaking, but it clearly wasn't to them.

"If you're half prepared, you won't be able to hold your senses."

"Third division commander, Diamond Jozu." Another name committed to memory.

The trio had begun moving forward, Shanks dragging the bottle of sake behind him on the wood, leaving a gentle groove in the planking from where the heavy liquid was pulled across. "As usual," the bigger man continued as more and more people fell down around them, "an impressive spirit." A particularly powerful wave of the energy Shanks was putting out bashed against the railings, causing them to crack, as they approached the man they'd come to meet.

Huge. That was one word. Powerful was another. Old, as well. Whitebeard was three times the size of a regular man, his chest dwarfing all three of the visiting party, and covered in scars. His mustache was pure white; the trademark of his namesake. A bandana covered his head, and a massive captain's coat draped over his shoulders, loose enough to provide easy movement but not about to slide off. He was connected to numerous machines, some of which looked like ventilators and respirators for oxygen.

"Excuse me." Shanks intoned, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. "I had to be a little threat since it's an enemy ship."

"Just seeing your face makes the wound given by that bastard ache again." This was a discussion neither King understood; whoever this bastard was, it was clear neither of these two were on good terms with him.

"I've brought some healing water." Shanks continued, talking as though it were a simple conversation in a bar, like he was sitting down next to Whitebeard with a bottle of sake held out in one hand. "I've got no intention to fight."

"Who're they, then? A brother and a swordsman?" Whitebeard pointed a massive finger towards Mikoto and Reisi, who both stared blank faced and smiled gently, respectively. Shanks looked back at them like he'd only just noticed them, and laughed.

"Oh, we might have red hair, the same, but we're not related. They're just some people I saved a few days ago." He nudged Mikoto in the ribs, eliciting the blank face to turn into a scowl, and focus on him. He ignored it. "Introduce yourselves."

"Munakata Reisi." He glared over at Mikoto, who sighed, fixing a glare on Whitebeard's mustache.

"Mikoto Suoh."

"Hmm…" Whitebeard hummed, leaning forward in his chair, eyes narrowing as he examined them with more attention to detail. The way Mikoto looked bored even though he was clearly in a dangerous situation, how he seemed comfortable in a place where he was surrounded by enemies. The sword on Munakata's hip, how his hand hovered near it unconsciously, how the look in both of their eyes spoke of…strength. The massive man gave a nod, leaning back. "They're strong for a pair of brats." Shanks laughed, though it was clear he wasn't amused in the way he wasn't smiling.

"There's something I want to talk to you about." He said, turning the conversation back to the topic at hand.

"Is that all a man who comes to show his spirit says? Idiot." Whitebeard laughed, and a blonde haired man shouted from the sidelines.

"Oi, Red Hair!" The trio glanced over, and Marco pointed around the ship. "Bastard, look what you did!" Eyes settled on the mountains of unconscious men, the damaged railing. But Shanks didn't seem to care.

"Oh! You're the first division commander, Marco, right? Won't you join my crew?"

"Shut up!" Shanks laughed, turning back to Whitebeard.

"Old man, should we…" Jozu started, hesitant.

"Yeah, it appears this isn't war. Leave us alone." Everyone filed away, though Reisi and Mikoto lingered, up until the point Shanks waved them off, sending them back towards where they'd come, away from the Whitebeard pirates' gathering area.

A conversation began, and though no one could hear or see it, they could speculate what had happened when they heard a shout, and the skies above split.

"Something went wrong in the conversation." Reisi muttered, looking up at the split clouds. Mikoto hummed in agreement, off to the side, smoking a cigarette. Shanks appeared suddenly, looking very irritated, his power flashing wildly from him, making the wood around them splinter.

"That did not go well." He growled, walking right past them with a snarling visage, one that was surely a rare occurrence for him. Without any delay, they got back on the Red Force and pulled away, the Captain of the Red Hair Pirates immediately burying himself inside a bottle to hold off thinking about what his fellow Yonko had told him.

The kings joined him, though Reisi drank nothing. A week passed like this. Shanks going to bed drunk, getting up drinking, even his first mate couldn't stop him, and when he finally stopped himself he spent a morning with the worst hangover he'd had in months.

Groaning, he grunted out an explanation for his actions to everyone around him, including Benn, Reisi, and Mikoto.

"Whitebeard plans to follow Teach to the ends of the earth, beat some morals into him." He groaned, his head lolling back and then slamming down on the table. "Where the fuck are the painkillers…" he muttered, before continuing, holding his head up with his one hand. "Ace is going to fuck up. He's gonna get beaten. Whitebeard's gonna have to deal with it, but…huh, I'll probably have to get involved too." He stood on shaky legs and pushed past his crewmembers, muttering about senile old men and their high moral standards.

They docked at an island called Yukiryu; it was where the crew hung out when they had no immediate things to accomplish. It was one of the few islands Shanks actually claimed as his own, putting it under his protection. A winter island, it was cold, and though Mikoto needed no coat thanks to his latent aura, Reisi thanked Boris for providing a fashionable overcoat akin to his old Scepter 4 jacket. He had actually placed an order to the fashionista of the Red Hair Pirates for the creation of an outfit identical to his old one, though the description he gave could not be one hundred percent perfect, it would be made soon enough, and he'd be back in blue.

Mikoto had requested another pair of black jeans and a, instead of the regular black he always wore, a red coat. Fur, same as the last one, but red. He hadn't bothered to explain why, but Reisi suspected the reasoning was something along the lines of, 'wearing his clan's colors.' Perhaps he just wanted to indirectly make fun of Reisi for wanting his old uniform back-but it was never a question answered.

On this winter island they spent a few months. Reisi spoke with Shanks and his crew about this world, breaking the news that they _really_ weren't from around here. After the immediate shock, Shanks was all too glad to explain the way this world worked, who the Marines were, the ways of the World Government, the Tennryubito, the Warlords, the Yonko, the everything; the different oceans, the two halves of the Grand Line, and some history.

The Pirate King, Gold Roger, intrigued them greatly, though Mikoto just listened to the conversations Reisi and Shanks had, not bothering to ask any questions of his own; Reisi had all the bases covered.

They did not reveal the fact of their Kingship. It was something they suspected would get them attention they didn't need, even if they were alone on an island with one of the most relaxed pirate crews in the world. Once they went off it, someone would probably mention something, and the secret would be out; this World Government would probably want to talk to them, if not capture them and try to experiment on them like the heartless organization they were. Simply being associated with pirates was crime enough, apparently.

Over the months, more queer dreams with a purple sword and the changing of uniforms were witnessed by both kings. They hadn't discerned the meaning yet, but there were changes that they just hadn't noticed.

Like Reisi dropping his mask a lot more frequently. And Mikoto being more reasonable, albeit only a little, in conversation and manners.

The bounty system was also explained. Shanks told them while a higher bounty meant more marines and bounty hunters would be looking for you and trying for your head, it could also be used as means of intimidation and a ranking system among the pirates themselves. A person with high bounty, such as some of the pirates in the New World where they were, weren't attacked by bounty hunters simply because the amount of money on their head made them unapproachable. Others were looked up to, respected. Some had incomprehensible bounties on their heads, amounts of money so big that it made both of the kings eyes pop out.

When Shanks whispered what his bounty was in Reisi's ear, the Blue King fell backwards giggling like a little girl at how fucking ridiculously large the amount was. That amount of money didn't even _exist. _Mikoto snorted at this reaction, pondering what his own bounty would be if a similar system was used back in Shizuma City.

Over this course of time Reisi regained much of the lost color in his cheeks and got his weight back to a healthy standard, though, he was never a heavy man to begin with.

When the news came of the tragedy that had befallen the Straw Hat crew, Shanks started drinking again. Sure, he drank regularly, but this time it was worse. It was three weeks before they could finally get rid of all the alcohol and force him back to sobriety. For a while he was just silent, sorrowful for the pain a particular boy in a straw hat was feeling. He wanted to go help the kid, but thanks to Kuma's fruit…he had no damn clue where to go. How could he help him if he couldn't even find him?

Weeks and weeks passed. Finally, something big in the news.

A war. In Marineford.

Portgas D. Ace's execution.

With this brief skimming of the newspaper, Shanks stood up, stolid faced, and barked for them all to get back on the ship.

"We're going to help the old man out!" He shouted, pointedly staring at Benn Beckman, who was skeptical of aiding a fellow Yonko in anything. "Kaidou's going to make a move, I just know it. We'll hold him off the old man till he can get to Marineford." He turned and muttered something under his breath, like he was making further plans than he was telling, before shouting for them to cast off.

Kaido, cruel creature that he was, wasn't an idiot. When he saw Shank's Red Force on the horizon, he flashed a signal that translated roughly to; "Alright, alright, I'm backing off." He would have taken advantage of Whitebeards distraction, sliding in from the side to take him out, but a fight with Shanks head on was not something he sought. Of course, this was after a horizon standoff that lasted three days discussing (rather, arguing) that Kaido should stand down. Shanks was fully prepared to fight, but if he could avoid it…he'd prefer to.

The matter was settled, and the massive ship of Kaido the Strongest Creature in the World turned back to his favorite winter island, where he would resign himself to continuing the building of an army of false Zoans.

Shanks, satisified with this withdrawal, knowing that Kaido wouldn't be _so stupid_ to turn around and pursue Whitebeard again, turned the ship around and did just that. The war at Marineford had already begun, even if no one knew it yet; it was only a matter of time until the fleet of ships approaching the central island of the Marines would arrive, and the Red Hair pirates didn't have much time.

They arrived shortly after Ace and Whitebeard had died, and at the point of Luffy's escape. Mikoto and Reisi hung back, not wanting to present themselves to the public as a possible member of a Yonko's crew, but they could clearly see why Shanks was revered as an Emperor of the Sea.

Shanks stopped the war.

Sengoku, Fleet Admiral of the Marines, was a follower of True Justice. He could understand Shank's viewpoint that the pair, Ace and Whitebeard, had been disgraced enough by having their deaths broadcast to the world. He allowed the pirates to take the deceased, to send medics to all injured parties, and to clear out Marineford, taking all responsibility upon himself.

_A week later…_

"I would request something of you two." This statement brought Reisi and Mikoto's attention back up from their meals to Shanks, who sat across from them, looking serious. "Luffy. You know, the boy I spoke of?"

"The son of the revolutionary, grandson of the navy hero, up and coming rookie of the pirating world, yes, you might have mentioned him." There was subtle mocking in there, but Shanks ignored it.

"I want you to go to a place called Abandoned Island. I heard he was taken there by Trafalgar Law, another rookie. The Pirate King's first mate is training him. The Dark King. Silvers Rayleigh." He grinned. "Maybe you'd be willing to help him out, and get some training of your own?"

"Nah." Mikoto said, bluntly. "I don't feel like it." This earned a stern glare from both Reisi and Shanks. The former gripped him by the arm and pulled him back for a whispered scolding.

"He's saved our lives, fed us for months-we owe him that much." Reisi was surprised Mikoto was outright denying such a simple request; he'd been a lot more polite in past months, but this was just…

"I don't give a damn." Mikoto said, prompting Reisi to let out a growl-a sound he'd never made before-and throw Mikoto off of his seat.

"Forget it. Two Kings being in the same place this long-how did I think it would last?" He turned to Shanks. "I'll be glad to cancel out my debt to you. Feel free to throw the numbskull off your ship." He turned to go, but found a hand on his shoulder. Mikoto's eyes were smoldering, and he grunted an excuse as he dragged Reisi out of the room by the collar, throwing him up against the wall in the hallway, but before he could speak Reisi cut him off.

"Think of Anna, Mikoto." Mikoto's jaw clapped shut. "She's all alone right now. Sure, the bartender's taking care of her, but you're gone. Luffy's lost his brother-that's a loss just the same as Anna's. Wouldn't you want to keep Anna happy, even if you're long gone?"

"This kid-"

"Is in the same lost, sorrowful situation Anna is in. You _died._ Ace _died._ Think of it as redemption."

"What about your lieutenant? Where's your…" Mikoto's jaw slowed down as Reisi's eyes flickered dangerously.

"I've left her as well. I'm gone, same as you."

"No, you're not." Mikoto admondished, poking Reisi in the chest with his free hand. "You just disappeared. It's not like you-"

"Died. I died."

Silence.

"I was drunk, Suoh. I wasn't in a good place. I got Adolf to kill me-couldn't have died any other way. He truly is immortal, by the way. Up in his Himmelrich, asked him to come with me to the launch bay to look around. Somehow, even though I was so incoherent I could barely stand up, he did as I asked, and I shoved him against the 'open' button. I fell, and since he'd inadvertently caused it…"

More silence.

"You killed yourself because…"

"Because I killed someone who didn't need to die." One lone tear trailed down Reisi's left cheek. "You made me kill you, Suoh. Kagutsu crater all over again, or your death-I had no choice." He shoved Mikoto off him, then against the other wall, shifting their positions. "If you hadn't done that-if you hadn't taken over the school-if your damn mother hen hadn't been killed by that _damn Colorless King,_ _**we'd still be alive!**_ Anna wouldn't be mourning your death, your bartender would still have you sipping beer at his bar, our subordinates, the monkey and the boy with a girl's name would still bicker like children, Awashima-no, Seri-she…" He slammed his head against Mikoto's. _**"She wouldn't be bearing a child alone!"**_

For a few seconds, Reisi just leaned against Mikoto, their foreheads still pressed together, panting. Another tear had fallen. With a deep sniff, he pulled back, wiping his face, putting up the emotionless, polite mask he'd nurtured since gaining his Kingship-but it fell apart when the Red King threw his arms around his shoulders, almost the same way he'd done when he'd died.

"I'm never doing this again." The red haired man growled out into Reisi's shoulder. "I…"He paused, and Reisi could hear an audible swallow of spit and self-preservation going down Mikoto's throat. "I regret making you kill me. If I hadn't…" He shifted slightly as Reisi, with great reluctance, brought his own arms up around Mikoto. "If I hadn't been so immature, we'd both still be alive. You'd be marrying your lieutenant, probably. Anna would be growing up, as happy as she could be without Tatara around. And…" He paused. "I didn't know about you and Awashima."

"Y-yeah, it's been going on for a while."

"Hmm." Mikoto continued, ignoring the wetness on his shoulder from more tears trailing down in clear rivulets on Reisi's face. "If I hadn't done that I'd still be alive, too. I'd be drinking tequila and reminiscing about my, heh, mother hen. Maybe I'd be asking…" He sighed. "Maybe I'd be marrying Hara. I dunno." He let out a gritty snicker. "A king needs a queen. And a princess…Anna…"

At this point, Reisi had gone silent, quivering.

"Let it out, or it'll swallow you u-up." The final syllable cracked, an odd sound coming from the throaty, purring voice of the lion. Reisi felt a single bead of what he knew to be a tear land on his neck, and he lost it. They fell down onto the floor, using each other for support. This had been an event that would have happened sooner or later; the sorrow of two kings in a place where their title held no power. Their clans were elsewhere, out of sight, out of range. They'd left behind lovers and family. They'd both _died._

In the galley, it had gone silent. Reisi's rising volume, and the climax at which he declared a woman would be having her child alone because he wasn't there, Yasopp let out a choked sob, keeping his face hidden from the rest of the crew. Shanks sent a gaze around the room, then slammed his mug down on the table three times.

"More alcohol!"

For a few days, the pair of kings drifted listlessly about the ship, and whenever they bumped into each other they turned and walked in the other direction. They spoke to no one, and at dinner they were silent as the grave. Finally, after this period of silent sorrow, they approached Shanks at the same time, and they didn't even have to say what they wanted to do.

The Red Force made way for the island Luffy and Rayleigh were on.

Luffy dodged the stick Rayleigh held for the fifth time, but faltered for the sixth, getting bashed in the head and thrown a few yards by the force. Rayleigh laughed, and Luffy tore his blindfold off, groaning as his stomach grumbled.

"Ah, I haven't eaten-no wonder I'm so out of it. Yesterday I managed ten without messing up."

"Fine, fine." Rayleigh said, toting the stick on his shoulder. "Let's go get some food. I'm hungry too, see?" He pat his own growling belly, and the pair took off towards where they'd made a tiny camp for themselves. The Dark King froze, however, when he sensed two approaching powerful entities. He kicked Luffy towards camp and then faced the direction they were coming from.

Out from the trees came two men.

Both tall, both in suits. One with blood red hair, the other dark blue. Rayleigh doubted he would even need Haki to tell how powerful they were.

They were _strong._

"Dark King Rayleigh, first mate of the Pirate King." One of the men drawled, the one with blue hair. Rayleigh shifted his stance, prepared to swing out his sword at any moment. "Munakata Reisi, and Mikoto Suoh." He elbowed the other man in the gut, but got no reaction. "Shanks sent us."

Reisi opened his mouth to state his name, but Mikoto beat him to it, oddly enough. And he added a title which Reisi would have enjoyed to keep quiet a little longer.

"Mikoto Suoh, the Red King." The lion glanced over at Reisi, who's violet eyes were flashing dangerously. "In a meeting of Emperors, don't you think we should introduce ourselves _properly,_ eh, _Blue?"_ Reisi silenced the growl threatening to rise out of his throat, and forced himself to smile.

"Munakata Reisi. Blue King."

"Kings." A distinctive laugh echoed from Whitebeard, who slapped his hand down on the sides of his chair. "You bring two kings along with you to greet me. Kings? I've never heard of the Rainbow Kingdom before. What of the Green, the Yellow?" He laughed again, tossing his head back. Shanks was giving them both an indiscernible expression, but he shook his head, and laughed as well, causing Whitebeard to go silent.

"Funny, funny-I didn't know they were Kings either." He gave them another look which _screamed _'we'll be talking about this later,' but continued talking to Whitebeard. "Nevermind that. I've-"

"There is no Green King, nor is there a Yellow King." Reisi said, maintaining his smile, though he was fuming on the inside. He'd never really felt angry before, not unless it was directed at his current companion. "The Silver King rules the sky, the Gold rules the earth, Red is the rage, and Blue is the discipline." He couldn't hold his tongue. "What makes you an Emperor of the Sea, oh great and glorious Whitebeard?"

The mocking tone of voice did not go unnoticed, and even Mikoto was giving him odd looks. Reisi, quite frankly, couldn't believe he'd just said that. But he felt himself digging a deeper and deeper hole for himself, even as he shouted in his mind to shut up.

"Where is your proof of Lordship?" He asked, smiling like a cocky teenager.

"Oi, oi-" Shanks tried to intervene, but Whitebeard had already been irritated enough. He hadn't even received the sake Shanks had brought-he was pissed. With a creak of the wood he sat upon, Whitebeard stood up, clutching the spear that sat next to him in one hand, the machines that connected to him falling off like water off a duck's back.

"_I…"_ He growled, stepping forward, raising the spear upwards and upwards over all three of them. _"Am Whitebeard!"_ A vicious arc of blurring metal was made, and everyone's eyes widened at the flash of red light that nearly took their vision away, it was so bright. A familiar sound of space ripping came from above.

"Only a King can kill another King. I don't believe an Emperor has a chance, even if it implies a higher magnitude of power." Mikoto drawled, looking bored, holding the tip of Whitebeards spear with one hand as his entire body engulfed itself in a red aura. He raised a hand, pointing with his index finger upwards. "_That_ is the proof of my Kingship. He has one, as well."

All eyes went upwards, and all mouths dropped to the floor at the sight of a massive sword floating in the sky above. It was made of some rusty red metal, and was purely enormous. Less than a moment later another sword joined it, this time a silvery-blue one with blue jewels in the hilt instead of the red orb in the other one.

"


End file.
